


What the Fuck is Halo

by 8bitalpha



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:52:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8bitalpha/pseuds/8bitalpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the hell are you reading?”</p><p>“…Halo. Book adaptation of the game’s story.”</p><p>“What the actual fuck is Halo?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Fuck is Halo

_If bookstore number three is a flop, I will torrent the fucking comics myself. Fuck the risks._  Tucker tried  _embarrassingly_  hard not to slam  _every single door_  he came in contact with over the past hour, trudging up and down the aisles of every bookstore his phone could locate somewhere near him. Admittedly, he was  _extremely_  late to jump on the bandwagon with this particular series, but honestly he doubted the show would ever make since without them.

For the third time, he explained to the clerk at the desk what he was looking for, and for the third time he got the spiel on how the store “didn’t carry any of that series on site” but they could “order it at another site and ship it for you”. Part of him was grateful he hadn’t asked Church to help him find his books–there would probably be a pretty hefty bail charge to bust him out when he dragged someone over the counter and smashed their head into a revolving bookmark display.

 

“ _Maybe you should talk to somebody about your anger issues, dude.”_

_“Maybe you should shut the hell up and stop **trying**  to piss me off.”  
_

_“No one is trying to make you do anything, Church. We’re all friends here.”  
_

_“ **Caboose!”**_

Tucker was starting to think they would need a mediator in the room any time they talked to Church.

 

“Well, I’m not leaving empty handed. Where’re the comics?” He asked, nodding once in thanks as the receptionist pointed him to a couple rows in the back of the store. 

All of the bookstores he’d been through were the same. The faux-comfort feeling, the suffocating smell from the coffee kiosk in the corner near the front, the horribly placed spotlights that looked like they belonged in a dressing room, all of it was the same. Book selection was different, though. That was nice. Some of the stores had more than others–wider variety pandered to a certain audience, or an even number of everything for everyone. The comics were always in the back, though. All of the “nerd stuff” always ended up near the very back of the store. Except the zombie shit. That had its own section in the front.

In all honesty, Tucker was getting fuckin’ sick of making this “walk of shame” so-to-speak to the back of the store. He really made sure to buy something so he wouldn’t be that douche who stood in different sections for an hour before walking out without anything. Then the cashier would ask him if he found everything okay, and he’d have to lie and tell her he did, and he’d overpay for a novel, and the likelihood of him  _actually_  reading it was about as slim as a paperclip, and he’d still restart the same cycle in a few weeks trying to find his comics.

Even though he expected there to be some nerd roaming the aisle, he’d hoped it’d be a cute nerd girl and he could try to strike up a conversation. He’d probably strike out, but hell, it was always worth a shot.

Nope. It was a the biggest fucking nerd he knew.

“Wash?” A hundred different questions ran through his head, and the best one he could pull was the blond’s name?  _Nice one, Tucker. Great fucking job._  He wanted to ask so much–like why he was here, what he was doing, when he started wearing running shorts even though his ass looked fucking  _stellar_  in them, when he found time to work out his legs enough to make them look  _that good_ , how Wash thought said shorts would look on Tucker’s bedroom floor–

“Hm? Hey, Tucker. What…are you doing here? And why do you look like you’re on something?” Wash’s cautious question snapped Tucker out of his thoughts and he shook his head, quickly trying to redeem himself. 

“Me? Nah–not on anything. Anything other than my anger, anyways. I came for this one fuckin’ comic series, and literally no one has it. What are  _you_  doing here, Washington? Aren’t you supposed to be acting all intimidating and protecting Grey’s flower shop or something?” He retorted, crossing his arms–a little too proud of whatever bullshit had just spewed from his mouth. Wash blinked at him, quietly closing his book and setting it on the shelf–the creepiest thing was that he didn’t break eye contact. Okay, it was more hot than creepy, but it still scared the hell out of him.

“First of all,”  _here we go,_  “I don’t  _protect_  the shop. It doesn’t  _need_  protecting. I’m there because I’m the co-owner. Get it right. Secondly, Emily gave me the day off and I wanted some new reading material for when the shop is quiet. Sue me.” Wash sneered the last words, rolling his eyes and grabbing for the book again. Tucker made a quick glance at the cover and frowned, curiosity taking hold before common sense told him,  _Hey, maybe you should leave Wash alone because he’s probably in a bad mood today._

 _“_ What are you reading?” Wash’s eyebrows knitted together and he blinked, one corner of his mouth turning up with the confusion.

“ _What_?”

“Your book. What the hell are you reading? Are the lights on in there?” Tucker waved a hand in front of Wash’s face only to have it swatted away.

“…Halo. Book adaptation of the game’s story.” Wash mumbled, shifting his weight like he was embarrassed about it.

“What the  _actual fuck_  is Halo?” Tucker echoed and Wash’s face actually  _lit up_ , like, little kid on Christmas shit.

***

That tiny question sparked three hours of sitting in an uncomfortable chair in near the store’s coffee kiosk while Wash excitedly explained what Halo was, who Master Chief was, this Cortana chick who actually looked a little bit like Emily Grey, and all of this shit about corrupt governments and explosions and war and deaths. Tucker didn’t focus on the confusing stuff–he mostly focused on how  _excited_  Wash was when he talked about it. If Tucker asked a question, it got even worse. Tucker swore the guy was going to start  _vibrating_  when Tucker asked why Cortana was so important to Chief’s story line. 

Tucker even forgot Wash was wearing the booty shorts when the bookstore finally made them pay and kicked them out, still enthralled in everything the taller man had to say.  _For a guy who doesn’t say much, he can talk you into your grave. I love it._

He  _did_  end up asking Wash if he could hang out in the shop tomorrow and talk some more, trying so hard not to make Wash think there was an underlying innuendo in the request. Wash shrugged and said he’d talk it over with Emily, but Tucker could  _feel_  the excitement radiating off of him at the prospect of nerding out again.

Oh sure, they were just going to talk. Totally. 100% innocent. 

Wash knew exactly what Tucker had in mind and, honestly, he desperately hoped for the same thing.


End file.
